dad

My Dad has been a feminist, way before I learnt how to spell the word.

When my children complain that I'm forgetful, I remind them that DAD is just ADD spelled sideways.

There is no substitute for your impassioned prayers on behalf of your children

The best way to encourage your children is to let them know you are praying for them.

It is not that you give birth to a child that matters most. Rather, it is what you birth into them.

The greatest thing a father can do for his children is to respect the woman that gave birth to his children. It is because of her that you have the greatest treasures in your life. You may have moved on, but your children have not. If you can__ be her soulmate, then at least be thoughtful. Whom your children love should always be someone that you acknowledge with kindness. Your children notice everything and will follow your example.

To your parents you are still that innocent baby, and sometimes even you will need your father's hand and your mother's lap.

Model the qualities that you want your children to show to each other.

A best friend is the only one that walks into your life when the world has walked out.

I don__ remember his face or the place we ate. I only remember how he grabbed my hand and his voice when he spoke of his dad.

I'm going to be a person who writes stories.I never told mom and dad how much I loved them.I wanna be someone who can tell a lot of people how much I love them.

It had been a wake-up call and now all she wanted was to keep her dad in sight and make sure he didn't eat too many Mars Bars or drink too much beer.

Dad, despite the fact you can be a right grumpy bastard, I__ so incredibly grateful to have you in my life.

Mom hadn't met Ramon; her advocacy was more arm's length - petitions, the website, letter writing, meetings with politicians. Her friend Hanna had formed a close friendship with Ramon though, visiting him as often as she could. Hanna told me that Ramon's greatest regret was that he wouldn't get to see his daughter grow up.And Jeremy's dad, who had that opportunity, was just throwing it away.It made me furious, and I couldn't let it go.

I remember our childhood dayswhen life was easyand math problems hard.Mom would help us with our homeworkand dad was not at home but at work.After our chores, we__ go to the old fort museum with clips in our hair and pure joy in our hearts.You, sister, wore the bangles thatyou, brother, got as a prize from the Dentist.__hy the bangles?_ the Dentist asked, surprised, for boys picked the stickers of cars instead.__hey__e for my sisters,_ you said.Mom would treat us to a bottle of Coke,a few sips each. Then,we__ buy the sweet smelling bread from the same white vanand hand-in-hand,we__ walk to our small flat above the restaurant.I remember our childhood days.Do you remember them too?

Every parent is an artist, for the bared canvas of a newborn__ soul begs for the artist__ touch. And because this is so, a parent must prepare the palette with the utmost care, choose the brushes with poised caution, and mindfully attend to every brushstroke regardless of how slight. And such caution is utterly imperative for the emerging rendering will be both a legacy borne of the parent, and a life lived by the child.

A parent holds within their hands the gift of a child to which they must expend the gift of themselves. And in such a monumental outpouring, the parent will lose both the child and the gifts given, but they will possess the far greater gift of knowing that they gave both.

All too soon the garden of childhood is paved cold with the asphalt roads of adulthood. And while it is not within her power to halt this unrelenting progression, a mother can diligently guard this most precious garden and insure that the roads become gentle paths that wind through it instead of byways that kill it.